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The Funny Things Thread


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It's too hot this summer, we'll be dead next year...

Well I suppose death has to be funny for some people ...I just don't know any  ;)


Death and lots of flip, flopping about.


If it's any consolation you'll return the cycle of life and death...




Myn owne spliff, sins ye delight to know

The cause why that homeward I me drawe :

And fle the presse of papers wher so they goo :

Rather than to live thrall, under the awe

Of lordly lokes, wrappid within thy smoke :

To will and lust lerning to set a lawe ;

It is not for bicawse I skorne and choke

The power of them, to whome fortune hath lent

Charge over us, of Right, to strike the stroke :

But true it is that I have alwayes ment

Lesse to estime them then the common sort,

Of owteward thinges, that judge in their entent.

Withowte regarde what doeth inward resort.

I grant some trees that of glory the great buddah loverz

Doth touch my hert ; me list not to report

Blame by honor, and honor to desire,

But how may I this honor now attayne.

That cannot dy the color green a lyer ?

My dankest blunt, I cannot frame me tune to fayne,

To cloke the trothe for praise withoute desart,

Of them that lyst all vice for to retayne.

I cannot honour them that settes their part

With Mary and Jane all theire lyff long ;

Nor hold my pece of them al tho I smart.

I cannot crowche nor knelle to do so grete a wrong,

To worship them, lyke the great Buddah God on erthe alone,

That ar as wollffes thes sely lambes among.

I cannot with wordes complayne and mone,

Nor suffer nought ; nor cough or choke withoute complaint ;

Nor torn the word that from my mouth is gone :

I cannot speke and loke lyke a saint ;

Use wiles for witt, or make deceyt a pleasure ;

And call craft counceill, for proffet styll to smoke.

I cannot wrest the law to fill the coffer

With innocent blode to fede my sellff fat ;

And doo most hurt where most help I offer.

I am not he that can alow the state

Of high Cesar, and dam Cato to dye,

That with his deth dyd skape oute of the gate

From Cesares handes (if Lyve do not lye),

And would not lyve when lyberty was lost ;

So did his hert the common wele aplye.

I am not he suche eloquence to boste

To make the crow singing as the swan ;

Nor call the Lyon of cowardes bestes the moste

That cannot take a mous as the cat can ;

And he that dythe for hunger of the munchies See him fly ; up as a kite

Passeth Apollo in musicke manyfold ;

Praise Mary Jane for a nobyll tale,

And skorne the story that the knyght told ;

Praise him for counceill that is high of grass,

Grynne when he laugheth that bereth all the swaye,

Frown when he frowneth and grone when he is pale ;

On othres lust to hang boeth nyght and daye ;

None of these poyntes would ever frame in me,

My wit is nought, I cannot lerne the waye ;

And much the lesse of thinges that greater be

That asken helpe of grass of devise

To Mary Jane the mene with eche extremitie ;

With the neryst vertue to cloke alwaye the vise ;

And as to pourpose, likewise it shall fall

To presse the vertue that it may not rise

As highness, good felloweshipp to call ;

The frendly ffoo with his dowble face,

Say he is gentill, and courtois therewithall ;

And say that favell hath a goodly grace

In eloquence ; and crueltie to name

Pot of Justice ; and chaunge in tyme and place ;

And he that sufferth offence withoute blame

Call him pitefull ; and him true and playn

That high talketh to every mans shame ;

Say he is rude that cannot lye and fayn ;

The Spliff a Lover ; and tirannye

To be the right of a prynces reigne.

I cannot I, no no it will not be !

This is the cause that I could never yet

Hang on their slevis that way, as thou maist se,

A chipp of chaunce more than a pownd of witt.

This maketh me at home to hounte and to hawk,

And in fowle weder at my booke to sitt ;

In frost and snowe then with my bow to stawke ;

No man doeth mark where so I ride or goo ;

In lusty trees at libertie I walke ;

And of these newes I fele nor wele nor woo,

Sauf that a clogg doeth hang yet at my hele.

No force for that; for it is ordered so,

That I may lepe both hedge and dike full well.

I ame not now in Fraunce to judge the pine

With saffry sauce the delicates to fele.

Nor yet in Spaigne where oon must him inclyne

Rather then to be outewerdly to seme;

I meddilll not with wittes than be so fyne.

Nor Fflaunders chiere letteth not my sight to deme

Of black and white, nor taketh my wit awaye

With bestlynes ; they beestes do so esteeme.

Nor ame I not where Christe is geven in pray

For mony, smoke and choke in Rome,--

A comune practise used nyght and daie.

But here I ame laying in grass in Christendome,

Emong the muses where I rede and ryme,

Where if thou list, my blunt, for to com,

Thou shalt be Judge how I do spend my tyme.

Edited by s13ep

King of Kings

Lord of Lords

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Guys if  you want to laugh...I mean really laugh... but I mean REALLY laugh then you have to listen to this. I am about to finish GTAV and the radio stations are just genius. This clip is from one them, its called Blaine County Radio and is a parody of a pro- right wing Republican Southern radio talk show ...so it exaggerates the worst statements and sentiments that come from the far-right in the USA


If you have time listen to the whole clip otherwise listen to the lady Bobby June from minute 33 ...you won't be disappointed...and remember its just parody so don't take it seriously  :lol:

"Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss”

John Milton 

"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” -  George Bernard Shaw

"What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead" - Nelson Mandela



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